A Fierce and True Belief in Her
by RoseOfPhantom
Summary: This is a tribute to Mary Katherine Joyce, the reason Rise of the Guardians exists at all. In my story, she has always believed in the Guardians and the spirits and Jack has come to see her just as she's fading away, and they give each other some comfort. One shot.


**This is a tribute for Mary Katherine Joyce. It is also a thank you. Without her, we would not have Rise of the Guardians. For those who may not know, she is the one who asked if all our Guardians knew each other when she was young, and she kept asking questions. Because of this, her father researched and put the stories together, simply for her (and her brother).**

I also have a lot of speculation, and if I am right, then... there is so much about Rise of the Guardians we never realized. The publication of the first books is one year after she passed on. And Rise of the Guardians was released in 2012, but those kind of animation films take a bit of time especially with the detail and beauty that's all over the film. So I wonder if William decided to write the books in memory of Mary Katherine. I also wonder if the film was created (I don't actually know though) and started on in production because they wanted to work on it for Mary Katherine. Still Dream, I know was written for MK. And I think the scene with Jack and his sister was intentional, and may have even been a reflection of Mary and her brother (who's name is also Jackson) and he just reversed the roles.

That being said, with all the work put in, the detail, the beautiful animation, and all the dedications to MK... I think all of it was done just for one person. It was all done for her. Which means all of this was done in love. Therefore, the reason why this film is amazing and beautiful... it's because it was done in love.

So here's my tribute, for you MK. Done in love.

* * *

He had arrived at the quiet house again tonight. Jack didn't understand what he could be expected to do, coming back night after night to the special house on the block. Stopping by again and again was not going to do anything for the young lady, and it wasn't like any of them could see Jack. Keeping watch was really rather pointless. A boy in charge of the ice, cold, and snow, who created a mess everywhere he went and the best he could do to bring some help or comfort was to cool down a fever if the girl suddenly had one. His powers would probably do more harm than good. And once again, he hung around outside, eyes glancing up at the illuminated window. There was that itch, a pull around his navel that urged him to go up and do something that rescue the girl from the horrors she was facing and tell her it was going to be okay. But everything was not going to be okay. Her situation had taken a nasty turn, according to the conversations her family had shared in private. Jack could not count how many times he had watch her mother weep for her, her brother react in anger, and her father looking up to the sky for some help. He wondered if it was the Moon he spoke to at first, but then figured it was probably more like God. Adults never believed in the Man in the Moon and never turned to him for their problems anymore. On the off chance, they actually spoke to some supernatural being, it was always a god, depending on the religion they believed in. Most people never had time to believe in anything else.

Initially, it had been the stories that had drawn him in. The stories the father seemed to know so well, the ones the mother could reiterate, and the children loved. Even to that day, they seemed to delight in them and there was something similar to belief in the way they so passionately could recall every significant detail about the the characters and images they grew up with. Jack enjoyed them and was always finding himself making mental notes about the Tooth Fairy, Nicholas St. North, Sandman, and the Easter Bunny especially. He had quickly learned new things about them and wondered if much of what the stories said were true, making it a point to investigate. Despite all the laughter he saw in the house, and all the joy and love the whole family shared, he also looked in on the sadness. The young lady, Mary Katherine he had learned her name was, had been active and tried to involve herself in family activities, and wanted to help her parents around the house. She teased her little brother often. Mary had explored so much of Europe and came back with enthusiastic tales. She told jokes and always showed compassion for others. She was filled with life that was familiar to Jack, and her affection – and comedic taunting - for her younger brother also seemed to touch him in a warm way, like he remembered something about that feeling. However, he didn't know how it was possible to have known that feeling before. He had never had something like ever. And he never would. He would never be able to have a sort of family like that.

This girl was a shining light in the family, sweet and wonderful, but also headstrong and refusing to step down from her beliefs. She was also a dreamer and believed in things so much bigger than herself. But her personality was so well rounded and too delightful for her to keep on her shoulders. She grew weak after her travels, and her headaches came on. She didn't spent a lot of home anymore. Her family was often visiting her at the Children's Hospital, where she was tended to and given treatment. But the treatment soon stopped working. Jack watched the day they received the news. The time he had spent watching the family as they shared their stories and then returning to observe how they acted towards each other and how they lived, he had grown to care for them. And then the young lady fell ill and it hurt so bad that he could not reach out and touch her, freeze all her sickness. This was just another harshness in the world of reality, the world he was not supposed to exist in, but he couldn't pull himself away. He kept his distance from the girl. He did not desire to freeze up the machines she was hooked up to or suddenly freeze her bones. But he wanted to keep on watching. He wanted to watch her progress. And there it was. She didn't have much longer to live and there was nothing more they could do.

Louisiana was not a cold state. It was incredibly rare there was even snow. Jack was not often in the area because of that fact. He should not have even been hanging around as much as he did, but he remained. Around this time, it should almost be ninety degrees Fahrenheit, but his presence dropped it to comfortable seventy. It didn't matter he was messing with the natural temperature. He could not abandon her, even if she had no idea he was there. It made him feel better that there was someone watching over her all hours of the day, even when her parents were sleeping. Someone was guarding her, protecting her. That was all Jack wanted to do, and he wasn't quite clear where that desire had come from, but that was his mission. Even if briefly, he was going to guard against every evil, every outside harm to protect her. Except, of course, the one evil he truly wanted to keep away; he wanted to save Mary's life. He shouldn't have felt that way, He shouldn't have even established a connection with her, but he felt he did. There was something in his core that flowered with passion to shield her from the sickness growing in her head, and it felt almost too natural for it to be wrong. He couldn't understand why it felt so concrete and rounded, but it made it so strong, it physically pained him that he couldn't do anything about it. He was doomed to watch her fade away from her bedroom window, the light going out as her mother and father wished her good night, going to bed much later than they normally would. She breathed her goodnight, and Jack didn't understand how she was supposed to have a good night. Sleep had to be impossible. How could she not be worrying about whether or not she would actually wake up? How could she not be afraid? Besides that, the beeps, and the noises of the machines she was being hooked up to to give her medication to relax her and keep tabs on her heart rate must have been far too consistently annoying to get any shut eye. At the same time, he remembered how weak she was and how the simplest of movements wore her out.

He watched her close her album filled with the pictures of her travels, and her reunion with her family at the airport. Her chest deepened her breaths and she moaned, rubbing her head. She sniffled quietly, almost as if she was afraid of being heard. Her fingers shook when she dropped her hands and Jack swallowed. Her body, which had once been at a healthy stature and weight, had now seeped of the roundness and the glowing sheen of color. She was pallor and her skin hung, plastered to what seemed to be nothing but bones. Mary's face was white, dark circles around her eyes where she had lost weight due to the illness and her skin was stretched tight against her skull. She looked so much smaller than she had, just a few weeks ago. Everything that was happening was going to end soon. Jack had seen too many deaths in the world to know that. Her light and vibrancy had faded with her health and unless a miracle happened... he could not see her lasting any longer with how dim she was. She was eighteen. She was so young. Far too young to leave this world. But too old to ever believe in him. Even so, sitting there was going to make a difference. If he could even just be by her side, keep his eyes on her all night, he would feel he at least performed a duty in keeping watch over her. And the pull in his core was getting far too strong to ignore. Even if it didn't make a difference, he needed to reach out to her.

While she sunk back under the covers and stared at the ceiling, a tear finding its way out of her eye, he crept in, pushing back her half propped open window as he did. She turned her head and gasped, barely audible from how weak her voice had gotten. Jack stood very still, holding his staff tight against his side and grimaced, a little nervous he had startled her. Then he realized that wasn't possible. She was way past the age of believing.

Mary, looked far different than she had now. Pale skin, thin physique, sunken in cheeks and eyes, and hair that had not been lost to the chemo treatments, but thinned out immensely and a brown that no longer was filled with life. Before, she had been very lovely. Her hair was a soft chestnut, radiating with a glow sparking around her. Her cheeks had often been fat with laughter, and bright red. She walked with both grace and agility and there was a bubbliness to her step. She walked less often now, and she lost most of her glow. The eyes however, were still the same. Searching, and looking at the world with a child's wondered and dancing under the light of the stars. Now, they were looking straight at a Jack. Not past him or through him, as he was used to. Instead, they fell right on him and he scratched his head. He didn't quite understand.

"You're not supposed to be here..." she whispered, her gentle voice made quieter by dark and frailty.

"Uh..." he muttered, waiting for someone else to pop through the window behind him.

"Jack Frost, right?" she muttered, and that smile he had sworn should have faded with the rest of her brought back a little light into her face. Her teeth glistened and he felt a surge of calmness when she grinned at him. "Yes I see you."

"But, um... how... you're eighteen..." he mumbled, and he remembered how this was not a natural thing for him. Or a natural thing at all. It was not possible for someone to just suddenly start seeing him, And it was especially strange that she was basically an adult.

"I never stopped believing, not really," she remarked, and that grimaced at some sort of pain. "I may have caught my parents putting gifts under the tree, but that doesn't mean I didn't think Santa wasn't alive in some form. There's so much in this world we're..." Another grimace. Jack instinctively stepped forward and then curled his fingers into his fist, struggling with the reminder he couldn't help. "We're unsure about. We just need to have faith in the... world." She settled back into her bed and smiled lightly.

"But I mean.. me. No one believes in me..."

"My dad thinks he saw you once. And he told me and I just kept on believing. He told me the stories, you know. He said he might write about them, but he's not sure. Wouldn't that be something? Maybe the whole world would believe in you then..."

"Yeah, maybe..." Jack muttered and then cleared his throat.

"You're not supposed to be here," she repeated.

"I can go if you want."

"No..." A flicker of amusement appeared in her eyes. "I just mean, you're making it too cold here. In Louisiana. It's spring, you know."

"I know but... you got sick."

"Yes, I did."

"I couldn't leave after that."

"Don't let my sickness hinder you from your duties," her laughter almost sounded healthy then, but she of course released a small moan. "Please, don't waste time with me. Do what you need to..."

"No, I'm not wasting time," Jack corrected, taking another step forwards. Mary Katherine sat up again and smoothed out her bedsheets.

"I'm dying," she said plainly. "Honestly, don't you want to.. go have fun? I mean, this is the most depressing thing you can see."

"But I want you to know that..." He nibbled his lip and stared at his bare feet, pressed against the floor of her room. "That you're not alone. That even the things you can't see... are thinking about you. And I didn't want you to.. be in this room, by yourself. I just couldn't let you suffer and... be alone." Her lips broke into another smile.

"I'll be without a lot of things. And I've been without a lot of things. But the one thing I have never been without is people who care."

"Aren't you afraid of dying?" he wondered, now inching closer towards the end of her bed. She shook her head, the dim light glistening her eyes.

"Of course I am. But it's not like I can dwell on it. I'll sleep. And then never wake up. That's what it is. Maybe there's a heaven, I'll find out I guess. But I lived so much. I've done so much. And it's never going to be enough, but it's still full. So, this is my time. I'm afraid of my family, and how they'll do. My mom, my brother... and dad. He's so... torn about this. Even turning to something like the Man in the Moon for some help. It's so funny, because he stopped believing in that a long time ago, and now he's exercising every possible option. I told him not to fret, but he doesn't listen. He needs to illustrate. He needs to keep up with his job. It's what he loves best and I'm afraid... he'll get so upset he'll... stop. And Jackson, and Mom. I'm so scared they're going to... lose sight of the good things in life. I know they love me and they can have their time to grieve. But I also want them to know it's okay to move on." Jack was floored by her words. These was not the words of someone was sick and wearisome and had yet to truly explore their life. These were the words of someone who had a strong mind, and a healthy outlook, and had lived so much more than many people could even dream to live. "I'm going to be okay Jack. I'm just afraid no one else will be. Dad... he keeps talking about how... he wishes he could have walked me down the aisle at my wedding. I think that's what hurts most of all. I am his only daughter and..." Her eyes began to wet and Jack had to force himself not to touch them. They would only fuse to her skin as icicles. She reached up and pushed them away herself, her arms moving with slowness and she cringed when her arm fell back down against the bed. "He just wanted me to live my life. Fall in love, be happy, have kids. But none of that's going to happen. And... maybe I wanted something like that. Despite everything I've done, I wanted to know what that life was like, and live as others do. And feel... cherished. And loved. By someone who means the world to me." As she spoke and wept quietly, Jack dared to touch her hand and she responded to him. Her fingers weaved between his and though she hissed at the chill, she smiled all the same. "Even so, I'll still be okay. At least I can still hold the hand of a handsome boy, huh?"

"I won't tell your dad," he joked. She dropped further below the blankets and moaned.

"I can feel it..." she whispered.

"You can... feel it?"

"It's creeping up, but... I'm growing weaker, Jack. My eyes are getting so tired and... I just feel... lightweight and tickled." He stood up and was very careful not to squeeze her hand.

"What do you need?" he asked instantly.

"Mom. Dad. Jackson... I need them here."

"Hold on, M.K," he said, using the nickname he had heard her father refer to as. She smiled at his words. "I'll be back, just... hold on for two minutes."

"I can wait..." she whispered while Jack tore out of her room. He scurried down the hall and used the end of his staff to bang senselessly on the doors of the bedrooms and remained in the hall, until the occupants of the rooms emerged and rushed down to where Mary's room was. She looked up at them and grinned. Jack remained in the room and listened, with heart bleeding and convulsing in pain, as she exchanged words with them. She told them she had been given some of the greatest people to be a part of her family and told them how she loved them. She reminded them of silly times and embarrassing stories and gave them each of them some advice.

"Daddy," she finally said, to the man clutching her hand and tearing up under his glasses. "Never stop believing, okay?" She kissed them all, and they held onto her. Jack approached, not wanting to interrupt them, but knowing this was his last opportunity to get his goodbye. The young girl, who had been aged by sickness, turned towards Jack raised a hand to touch his face.

"You can't leave," he finally said.

"The forces of life disagree," she giggled, and her family looked around with concern. They continued to sob as they clutched their daughter. "I'm fading Jack. Who knows? Maybe I'll join you and the others..."

"What does that mean?" he whispered. She winked and then winced. The lids on her eyes fell and the movement in her chest stopped. When her mother wailed and her father cried out, Jack knew things had ended. He dropped to his knees, holding onto his staff for support. He turned his fists against the cylinder of the pole and growled angrily at the floor. He didn't know who to blame for this. There was nothing to take his anger out on, but he couldn't keep the frustration and the exploding grief contained in his slender body. Drowning out the family's cries was impossible and it only deepened the cut. He sighed and then stood up, leaning over her lifeless body. Without the light of her eyes, the visage no longer bore any resemblance to Mary Katherine. But there was that contented smile, bearing the peace she felt. Jack leaned over and pushed his lips into her hair. Particles of frost and ferns of ice thickened the thin locks of hair and created a shimmer on the brown locks.

"I will remember you," he whispered. "And I will remember you for what you were, are, and always have been. I will remember you as Mary Katherine, a girl fierce and true." He brushed her hair aside once more, so it late flat and neat.

"What is it?" asked the mother while the father glanced around the room.

"I just..." he started, swallowing. "Had this familiar feeling... and like there's someone here... who's been watching over Mary... this whole time..." Jack smirked to himself and caressed the palm of the girl, noticing how cold she was quickly becoming. He pushed his hand back into the pocket of his blue sweatshirt and stepped back outside the window. He jumped up into the winds that began to speed up. There was a noise, someone calling out his name. At first, he thought it was the father calling out to his son. Then he said his full name. Jack glanced back and saw that man, Mary's father. William, he remembered was his name.

"I see you," he said, voice cracking through his emotion. "I do see you. I saw you when I was young and I see you now."

"She gets it from you then..." Jack chuckled, floating back over to him.

"Mary?"

"Her never faltering belief in childhood faith," he repeated. "She wanted... you to make sure... you keep illustrating. You keep doing your job. She was afraid you would stop."

"How can I stop? She loved what I did. She loved that I love it."

"She was... special. Is special. I've never seen anyone so fierce and true in my whole life."

"Me neither. I don't even know where she gets it from..." The both of them shared in a hearty laugh and Jack gestured to the family.

"They need you."

"I know... thank you, for keeping watch over her."

"She wanted you to be okay... that's all she really wanted. For you all to be okay."

"We will be." Jack smiled and nodded to the man at the window. He sped off towards the window and then halted, turning back just before the window was closed.

"William," said Jack.

"Yes?"

"Thanks for believing in me." William coughed through his tears.

"No, Jack. Thank you for believing in her." As William vanished, Jack rubbed away the moisture building up behind his eyes and then jetted off, watching the skies as if he were expecting to see her among the stars.

* * *

**Thanks Mary Katherine, for what you left us. Thanks for the beauty you helped to create. Thanks for the hopes, the dreams, the wonder, the memories, and the fun.**


End file.
